Seven Can Be The Luckiest Number
by pfish
Summary: Not HBP compliant. Short drabble on the twists and unexpected turns relationships can take. First posted FF, so please be kind. SnapeHermione.


I do not own the Harry Potter world, I just like to play in it from time to time. And I have no money, so please don't sue me.

She had been his student for seven long years. Seven long years where he had chided her, insulted her and been forced to downgrade her intelligence both in his classes and in his grading of her. He had taken house points from her, assigned her detentions for no good reason, and made valiant efforts to have her best friends expelled on numerous occasions. When he heard that she had not applied to any wizarding university, he figured she would join those same friends in becoming an Auror, wasting her mind and her talents becoming part of the brute squad for the Ministry, maybe even losing her precious life young in the process. These were, after all, dangerous times. But something had happened he had never expected; he had been wrong. She had come to him timidly just hours before graduation and asked him if she could be his apprentice. No long conversation, no know-it-all inspired presentation on why she was a good and deserving candidate, not even a mention of her O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. scores. Just a simple question asked in a quiet voice with down-turned eyes. Then, after staring at her for what seemed like hours, until she was fidgeting and ready to excuse herself from his presence for bothering him with such a ridiculous request, he did something he never thought he would do. Something he had never done before. He accepted.

She graduated and left Hogwarts for a short summer break. She was set to return in exactly one month's time so that she could assist him in the preparation of the medicinal potions the school's mediwitch would need for the following year. It was to be a test, and they both knew it. He would be testing this strange and new Master-Apprentice relationship, testing to see if he could really do this, if she was willing to work with him, and if it was possible for him to get along with a former student (especially this particular student) in an educational working relationship. She would be testing herself to see if she could really do this, if he was willing to work with her without the insults and degradations, and if it was possible to get along with this particular former professor in a somewhat amicable manner. He was to meet her at the Hogwart's Express, and neither he nor the train was late. She did not dawdle in exiting the smoking locomotive, as he would not be pleased to be kept waiting. They gathered her things and made the short trip to the castle in a waiting carriage.

Dinner on the night of her arrival could have been called a feast. It certainly rivaled the welcoming feasts held each year when the students returned to classes. Only one student was returning this evening, however, but apparently it warranted great celebration. The Great Hall sparkled with candles under the enchanted ceiling. The other professors were overjoyed at her return and did nothing to hide their excitement. There was much talking and laughing, at least amongst the others. He continued to sit and eat in the relative silence that trademarked his every meal. She tried to draw him into the conversation many times, as did the other professors, but a few quick retorts from his scathing tongue and then he was mercifully left mainly alone for the rest of the meal.

They began their lessons immediately. He was even more impressed with her intelligence now he did not have to put up any façade towards her and could actually pay attention to her and her alone as she worked. Her ingredient preparation skills were above reproach, she seemed to have an endless knowledge of ingredients, interactions, uses and dangers. Potion after potion he queried her on, and never once did she have to consult a book to provide the correct answer, even on subjects far more advanced than he had taught to her in Advanced Potions in her final year. His respect for her as an individual and a potential Potions Mistress grew with each passing day, as did his guilt at the way he had insulted her in the past, the way he had treated her and the way he had completely ignored her amazing intellect for the past seven years. It was a very strange and new emotion for him.

As the weeks went on and they progressed into more and more complicated potions and brewing techniques, an uneasy friendship developed between them. The snide comments all but deserted their conversations. He had learned rather quickly that intimidation and cruelty would not give him the upper hand in this situation. She could give as good as she got, and while there was still a loose teacher-student relationship to their arrangement, she no longer felt she had to hold back in speaking her mind. Not only about the work expected of her, but of her mentor's methods, attitude and comments. Neither wanted to admit to the peaceful friendship that was developing, but developing it was.

And so it went on throughout the next school year and into the following summer. She assisted him with classes and grading, he taught her new techniques for brewing, introduced her to new herbs and ingredients, and their tentative friendship grew. Many nights they could be found quietly sitting together in his office grading papers or reading the latest potions journal; other nights found them leaning over each other in the lab brewing her latest assignment or his newest research project. They assisted each other often without words and the rest of the staff was amazed at the change in both of them. He was no longer quite as taciturn, occasionally he could even be caught chuckling or smiling. She was no longer the brains behind others, she stood on her own two feet, confident and secure in her identity and intelligence, and she was also becoming quite known for her short temper and quick retorts. At first the staff didn't know what to make of this strange alliance, but in the end they just decided to accept it. The qualities they were learning from each other would only help them both in their lives, so everyone just let them be.

Her friends would visit her often, but she was careful not to let them distract her from her work. They, of course, had been the bane of his existence for seven long years, but somehow the animosity had subsided. He would never say they had all become friends, but he did find that he no longer automatically grimaced or shuddered at the sounds of their voices coming down the corridor to the lab. It was more of a blissful ignorance. None of them made valiant efforts at conversation, but those that did happen weren't quite as strained anymore. She was overjoyed that all the men in her life had finally managed to come to a tentative truce.

But their relative peace was not to last. He learned from his spying escapades that a battle was imminent. The tyrant he pretended to serve was becoming more and more paranoid that there was indeed a spy within his ranks, although he did not know who it was, and did not wish to wait until the new school year to attack. He quickly mobilized his forces, but the tyrant underestimated the spy and the resistance he truly served. The apparition barrier was moved from the gates of Hogwarts to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, the village was emptied and the Order lay in wait for their foes' arrival.

There was a moment of confusion as the enemy appeared somewhere different than they were expecting and realized the spy had bested them, but it was only a moment and the battle was on. His true allegiance was revealed as he threw his mask to the ground and took down his former friend as he tried to end her life. They fought together, side by side, and struck down all those who came across them. Her skills impressed him. He had always been impressed with her intellect, but had stayed by her side in battle as he was unsure of her fighting skills with a wand. She seemed to match him spell for spell, curse for curse, and hex for hex. Apparently that secret club she had helped start while a student had served her well. His skills did not come as a surprise to her as she knew his history, but she was in awe watching him in action. There was such a graceful fluidity to the movements of his lanky frame and the dexterity of his hands in contrast to all his speeches on "foolish wand waving" was mesmerizing. This is not to say they were totally unscathed in their confrontations, but their wounds were minor compared to those of the enemies that crossed them.

The defining moment came when they received word that her friends were facing the tyrant himself in another part of the village. He could see the war going on behind her eyes, to stay and fight with him or to join her friends for the inevitable showdown. With an almost imperceptible nod he released her, letting her know he could handle himself and that she was needed elsewhere. Without a word she turned and fled.

She found her friends near the center of the village, struggling with the tyrant who was fixated on leaving them dead. Her presence bolstered them and together they fought as one. As with any epic battle, there are tragedies. One of her friends fell at the hands of the tyrant, and she herself was badly injured. But overall the remaining twosome was victorious, spurred on by revenge sought in the name of their fallen friends and family. They would all be remembered in the annals of history as the saviors of their world, but this mattered little when they were found broken and bleeding, consoling each other over the body of the one they had lost who they'd loved so dearly.

With the fall of the tyrant, his forces fell in disarray. The battle did not last much longer after his defeat. The remaining attackers were rounded up and the resistance fighters rejoiced. Except for one. She could not find her mentor anywhere in the jubilant crowds and feared the worst for his safety. She refused all offers of medical treatment, unwilling to think of herself until he was found. She searched the village, checking the bodies of the fallen and asking anyone and everyone if they had seen any sign of him. Finally someone told her they saw him disappear back toward the castle as the celebration raged on.

She didn't understand why he would have fled at their victory, and the worry consumed her. She would let no one stop her as she raced toward the castle. Her wounds were not mortal, but after the final confrontation they were many and the harder she pushed herself, the weaker she became. Stumbling on an unseen root, she crawled on her hands and knees until she regained the strength to stand. She knew that something was terribly wrong and that she must reach the dungeons at all costs. Arriving at the deserted castle, she hurried down stairs and through corridors until she reached his dark home. The door was locked and warded and she could find no entrance, no simple _"Alohamora" _would work against the strong and ancient magic he had put in place. Her frustration and fear had built to the boiling point by this time, and when she raised her wand for one last attempt to gain entry to his quarters, her emotions and magic combined in an astounding display, sending the door flying open with a bang and even knocking it off one of its hinges.

The man inside was so surprised that anyone, let alone her, could have breeched his wards or that anyone would even come after him at all, that he was distracted from his actions. He had been just about to pour a vial of potion down his throat, his head was tipped back and his arm was raised. He had taught her well and she could clearly see from across the room that it was one of the most deadly poisons known to wizarding kind. To see what he was about to do so unnerved her so much that the last of her strength was stolen from her and she lost the will to stand. Falling to her knees she begged him not to do what he was about to do. She could not understand why he would take his own life. They were victorious, they were heroes. He was a hero.

He stared at her trying to comprehend what was happening. This young woman, who was truly a hero, was on her knees begging for his life. While the rest of the fighters were reveling in her victory, she had come for him, battered and bleeding as she was, to rescue him, to absolve him, to save him. Never had anybody expressed such emotion regarding him before, such caring for him that it broke his defenses. The tiny cracks that she had made in his armor split wide open with an almost audible cracking force. The vial slipped from his fingers and shattered at his feet, sending up wisps of smoke as the liquid inside burned the stones. He took a step towards her and was so overcome with the emotions swirling through him that his legs betrayed him. Falling to the ground he crawled to her, his resolve broken. All the loneliness and despair that had built up in his life over the years had threatened to consume him and yet here he was, suddenly truly brought forth into the light. By her. He was not alone and friendless, and had not been for quite some time. He didn't even know when it had happened, but he had somewhere along the line acquired a true friend and for the first time in decades, he felt loved. He broke down then, throwing back his head and emitting such an anguished cry that the very stone walls of the castle seemed to momentarily shrink away from him in shock. The stress of it all was too much and he crumpled to the floor. She crawled over to him and cradled his head in her lap as the tears began to fall. This is how they were found hours later, when the celebration moved inside the castle walls, where they had been detected on a very special map.

They didn't get much time to celebrate. They were first taken to the hospital wing. His wounds were superficial, but hers were much more serious. He was healed and released within minutes, whereas she was required to stay much longer. The mediwitch had pushed him out the door, saying he did not need to be there. After the third time of being refused entry to the infirmary, he grudgingly made his way to the celebration, although his heart was not in it. She joined him in the Great Hall several hours later, weak and pale but with all outward signs of her injuries erased. Neither really wanted to be there, so they took the first opportunity to slip away. She wanted answers and he just wanted to hide. He tried to escort her to her rooms under the guise that she needed her rest, but she insisted on going to the dungeons. Once his newly repaired door had clicked shut behind them, she turned on him with a fire in her eyes that he had never seen before. She wanted answers. She wanted to know why.

Why. Three simple letters that make such a complicated word. At first he didn't know how to respond. He had never opened up to anyone before. He had never shared his personal thoughts and feelings with anyone, never justified his actions. Yet he felt he had to for her. She had broken his barriers, crashed his walls and opened his heart. So he explained.

There had never been love in his life. His parents were cold and unfeeling, leaving his rearing and care to nannies, governesses, and when he was old enough, the staff of Hogwarts. But at the school he had never felt the safety and belonging she had found within its walls. The love of friends eluded him, the torments of his fellow students haunted him. Even his amazing intellect did not garner the favor of the teachers. They turned a blind eye to the pain he suffered, fostering a resentment in his heart that grew to know no equal. So when the dark had beckoned, he had succumbed, hoping for the power and prestige he could find nowhere else. The ability to make those who had crossed him pay. But again he was deluded. The promised power was never bestowed. There was no love or camaraderie to be found in the ranks of the evilest of men, and the things that he had been forced to do haunted his dreams and waking hours alike. He was not at heart a bad man; this was not what he wanted out of his life. So he had been forced to swallow his pride and go crawling back for salvation. But even salvation comes at a price, his price to become a spy and live his days in danger. Once there was no longer a need for his penance, he no longer saw a purpose for his life. He'd written enough journal articles on his work and experiments that his intellect would live on and maybe many years from now the world's opinion of him would be favorable when there was no one left who truly remembered the man he had been. He had felt his time was over, his purpose was served.

He had told her all of this, unable to look at her face and see the pity that was surely there. He could not have been more wrong of her reaction. When her silence finally got the best of him and he raised his head he had no time to react or deflect the cracking slap administered to his face. Her face was pink and flushed and the fire remained in her eyes. She railed on him for what seemed like hours. Condemning his stupidity in thinking no one cared and his naiveté at just how little he would be missed. How dare he not think of those he would have been leaving behind? True, her friends would not shed a tear if he were to disappear off the face of the earth, but she surely would. She had never felt sorry for him. She had always been amazingly proud at the sacrifices he made without a care of concern for his well being. She had had many offers for apprenticeships when she left school, and had turned every one down before she ever stepped foot in his office. She had wanted to study under him or no one at all. Did he have no clue at all as to her feelings? How much she respected and admired him? And then she did the most unexpected thing yet. She grabbed his robes, pulled him to her and kissed him.

Just one kiss. Rather chaste by comparison to what he had caught some unsuspecting students doing in hidden alcoves in the castle, but fiery and passionate beyond his wildest imaginations. His mind was racing a mile a minute as he realized that he had done nothing to instigate this. He had not taken her by force or against her will. He had not paid her in galleons and sickles for her pleasures. She was kissing him truly and freely of her own accord. And it felt like heaven.

Things changed between them after that. No, there were no grand professions of love in front of the hordes of revelers in the Great Hall. That would not be befitting of a man of his standing or a woman of her grace. But there were long walks around the lake and quiet dinners together when the work was done, because of course the apprenticeship continued. He would not allow her to put her studies aside, to waste her intelligence by throwing away her education for love. And it was love. It developed slowly out of that one kiss, but it had been there all along. At first it was a new and strange emotion for him, alien to his experience but welcome in his heart. He courted her slowly and lovingly, even past the days when her apprenticeship was over. He waited until her education was complete and she was ready to be a wife. And then he married her. It was a grand but simple ceremony, seven years to the day when he first met her off the train. Her surviving best friend walked her down the aisle and gave the couple his blessing.

Seven years of detesting her had given way to seven years of loving her, and she him in return. Their lives seemed to run in seven year cycles. Seven years later and their first child was born. Seven years after that and he finally received the teaching position he had coveted for so long and she assumed his former teaching position as Potions Mistress. Seven years after that and his research reached its pinnacle when he discovered a cure for lycanthropy, she standing proudly by his side as he accepted his accolades from the Minister of Magic himself.

He never would have thought he could have ever been truly happy. That life would afford him all the things he was so jealous of others for. Someone who loved him, a family to cherish, and actual friends to call his own. He often thought back to that bushy know-it-all that had invaded his classroom that day so many sets of sevens ago. With that first raising of her hand the fates were set in motion. It had been a struggle, for the fates are not always kind, but he had finally found in her the redemption he had searched for so very, very long.


End file.
